


you flower, you feast

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Gay, Homo, LGBT, M/M, harryandlouis, larry - Freeform, larry stylinson - Freeform, louisandharry, stylinson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 08:50:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10895895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: hello! hope you enjoyed this... if you didn't, i'm sorry. :(however, if you did, please leave comments/kudos! it means loads to me.here's my social media, by the way...twitter: @onlyangeI (last L is an i)snapchat: rowellsusinstagram: @eversincenewyorksnot sure what else to say other than... buy harry styles by harry styles on itunes and enjoy the ride. x





	1. One

**one. **

 

The inky, thickened smog erupted from the demented boy's cigarette, which was held between two fingers against the pale lips that had made many mistakes. His messy, tangled hair fell slightly over his face as he looked down, covering his right eye. He didn't attempt to address this issue, it hardly bothered him. His body was too indulged in the numbness to even notice this matter. The cold winter air blew hard, threatening to extinguish the cigarette between his fingers. The wind crept its hands through his hair, bringing the tousles of hair that fell over his face back behind his ear. Again, he hardly noticed.

Alcohol-induced intoxication engulfed the cold boy in his entirety, his body numb as a response. All emotions voided from him as if they were water pouring through a sink, straight into the drainer. He couldn't feel the icy, rusted bench beneath him, nor the sleeves of his sweater around his arms. He was just simply  _there_. Existing. Breathing. His breath was delayed, hitched. His brain was running too slowly for him to know to breathe every few seconds, he had a red flag in his mind that simply read, "BREATHE", and it appeared every other second.

Gradually, though, the emotional and physical paralysis disappeared, too slowly for him to have noticed. He moved his cigarette to bite between his teeth, so his fingers could rest momentarily. It was fairly dark, and the streets were silent. The once pale blue sky was a shade of pinkish-orange, and the wind had calmed down slightly. He stood up from the bench, looked around, and came to a conclusion that it was around six in the afternoon. He tossed his cigarette on the ground, and rubbed it out quickly with his sneaker before anything drastic could occur. 

After taking a long-winded glance at his surroundings for the second time, he decided to walk into a very tiny café, he had barely seen it until he began to analyze the name of each building nearby. The windows were filthy, it looked as if they hadn't been cleaned in ages. This clashed terribly with the now mock-cheeriness of the building. The exterior walls were seemingly tarnished, the rosy pink paint bent to reveal a depressing grey. Funny. Seemed a bit like how he felt. 

The inside was even less appealing.

The patterned pink-and-white striped wallpaper seemed dull in the dimly-lit area, and it also folded slightly. The miniature lamps that sat at several of the tiny cabinets, (he had assumed they had attempted to make it seem like home), were turned off. A tall man with a few curls falling out of the back of his hat that he assumed to be of the waitstaff was turning another one off, all of the cabinets were placed in a neat little line. Louis hadn't noticed the chill of the building until he realized that he was still holding the door open. He let it fall back to its original place, and a bell above it rang softly. The waiter turned his head whilst turning another lamp off, and furrowed his eyebrows, a blatant crease forming between them.

"Oh, 'm sorry, sir, we're closing." the man spoke, briefly looking into Louis's eyes before returning his focus to the lamps. 

Louis frowned, looking at his shoes silently. "You can't, y'know, make me a coffee or anything?" he mumbled, the slight feeling of contentedness fleeting from his body. "I've been out in the cold all day." The waiter turned around, an eyebrow raised as if he were questioning this statement, and his head tilted in what seemed like a slightly sympathetic gesture. "Why haven't you been inside? It's nearly snowing out there, how long have you been out?"

Good question. Why hadn't he been inside? Louis couldn't recall what had made him decide to sit outside in the cold, drunk, and with a cigarette between his lips. So, to answer, he didn't. Just stood anxiously in silence. The waiter sighed, walking back to what was likely his usual position behind the large, marble counter. He leaned his hands on the top, spreading his arms out. "What can I get you, then?" he asked in a tired, raspy voice.

Louis swallowed hard, his throat tight from the cold. "Whatever's warmest."

The man squinted in confusion, but then shook his head and went to create this very brief description of a beverage. Louis coughed, trying to moisten his throat to take the pain away. "Sorry," he muttered, not sure whether he was apologizing for coughing or for the entire encounter. The waiter turned his head around, a soft, friendly smile painted wonderfully on his face as his hands nonchalantly worked a machine. "Don't be," he said, before turning back around. "Have to get paid, somehow."

"Guess so," Louis replied, without thinking. He leaned his hip against the counter, taking in the comfortableness of the little place. The gimcrack, dim interior was almost beautiful in itself, which contradicted his former belief entirely. But the clearing of a throat interrupted this newfound conclusion. Louis looked up instantly, his head tilted and his eyes content as he realized that his order was ready. 

The man held a red mug in each hand, drawing Louis to contort his face in confusion. However, the man's gesture did not change as he handed one of them to Louis and walked around the counter and to the other side of the barrier. He led him to a table, with a red stool on each side, near one of the few lamps that wasn't turned off. They both took a seat awkwardly, and set their mugs on the table. Louis looked back up at his waiter who sat comfortably in his stool, a small smile on his face.

"Couldn't hurt to stay a few more minutes," the man muttered, looking out of the window into the town, which was twice as dark as it was moments before. "You never told me your name."

Louis looked up whilst taking a sip of the scorching coffee, and set it down softly. "Louis." he said as the hot drink lit up his body. The man nodded, and then took a sip of his own coffee quietly. "Harry. See, now we know each other and we aren't two strangers drinking coffee together." Louis smiled crookedly, he noticed that Harry was trying his hardest to make things less awkward.

It was only working a little bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! hope you enjoyed this... if you didn't, i'm sorry. :(
> 
> however, if you did, please leave comments/kudos! it means loads to me.
> 
> here's my social media, by the way...
> 
> twitter: @onlyangeI (last L is an i)  
> snapchat: rowellsus  
> instagram: @eversincenewyorks 
> 
> not sure what else to say other than... buy harry styles by harry styles on itunes and enjoy the ride. x


	2. Two

**two.**

 

The seemingly thunderous pandemonium of the air conditioner turning itself on in the cheap, chilly apartment was loud enough to make Louis tilt over on his uncomfortable excuse for a bed. His eyes opened unwillingly as the frosty air prowled about his room from behind his vents, the only noise in the room being the hum of the dilapidated machine. So, of course, Louis groaned and sat up in averse, then buried his face against the palm of his cold hands, sighing into them. He had hardly gotten a wink of sleep.

Once he came to his senses, he looked back on the night before, the isolating apathy that was caused by the miserable-tasting bottles of liquor in his apartment, the mindless wandering for hours, the anesthetic feeling of lighting the cigarette, the sudden calmness of the café, the friendly boy who drank with him, the 'playing around' with himself in his bedroom until four in the morning; Louis could practically  _sense_ his mother complaining about how disappointing he was, and why couldn't he be as happy with himself as his sisters? He didn't know the answer, and he certainly wasn't willing to find out. Not yet.

*

Another walk around the picturesque town, (this time without a hint of newly-ingested alcohol in his system), led Louis to stop near the front of the café once more, smiling briefly once he noticed where he was. The walls had seemed even more besmirched in the daylight, the lights reflecting off of the sepia windows and causing Louis to squint. The cool breeze brushed over his body before he opened the door, letting it shut afterwards and hearing the bell ring. The warmer and comfier atmosphere engulfed him, and his smile got just a little wider.

It was almost as empty as it had been the night before, with the exception of a single customer who had his back turned to Louis. However, this customer turned his head to look at him once the bell rang, his eyes raised in apparent surprise. 

" _Loouuis_ ," the customer announced, prolonging the name as he stood up quickly. "I remembered your name, Louis. Aren't you proud of me? Did you remember mine, too?"

Louis chuckled heartily, and admired Harry as he leaned forward to shake Louis's hand, smiling proudly. (Harry had an amazingly strong grip.) He was no longer wearing his work uniform, but rather a black button-up and black jeans that complimented the paleness of his skin, yet clashed with the brightness of the shop. Louis felt like an utter mess, wearing a hoodie and black jeans, and he hadn't bothered to style his hair. However, Harry didn't seem to care as he then gestured towards the table he was sat at, hinting at Louis to sit with him. So they sat.

Harry didn't have a drink, he just seemed to have been sitting there before Louis arrived. Casual, but odd considering the fact that there was nobody else in the building. Harry had his hands folded into each other on top of the table, and he looked out of the window with his eyebrows furrowed. His chest heaved slightly and his jaw was clearly clenched. He hadn't paid the slightest attention to Louis, and seemed to be in an inescapable trance. Louis began to wonder if he was moving at all, but then Harry leaned his head against the window and sighed. "It's been a weird day."

Louis tilted his head and analyzed Harry's expression. Pure sadness. 

"What happened?" he asked, rubbing his feet on the ground in synchronization. His toes bent over in his sneakers to touch the hardwood floor, though they barely reached, anyways. Harry glanced over at Louis with his peripheral vision. Louis now noticed that his eyes were a faint shade of red, and that his lips were trembling. He had barely noticed at first, and it really wasn't obvious at all, but he was still taken aback by this sudden realization. 

"Um.. I don't know. We've been empty for so long, so I just.. called my boss and asked if I could just take the rest of the day off. And he was like, 'No, I'll have your ass if you leave,' so I stayed. 'Cause I don't want him to have my ass," Harry rambled, his eyes shut slightly as if he were mumbling in his sleep. "You know what I mean? And nobody showed up. So, you know, I bought a big... a big-a thing-y full of liquor, I guess. And I've been sitting here drunk off my  _ass_ for, um, about an hour. And I'm scared."

"God," Louis breathed out, immediately. Harry looked completely lost, his mouth was open partially, and it appeared like he was gawking. His eyelids drooped; he looked almost asleep. "Just leave."

Harry's eyes opened a bit wider, almost in shock at the remark. His fingers clenched together tightly, catching Louis's attention. "I could never." 

"Don't overthink it. You're fucking  _drunk._ Look, you could get in trouble for leaving,  _or_.. you  _will_ get  _fired_ for being drunk on the job, if anyone shows up. Come to my place, he won't know. Just close the shop." Louis explained, feeling as if he had been speaking to someone he'd known for ages. The slightly drunk boy in front of him sighed, and stood up from his seat lazily. "Just take me."

The two left the building hurriedly, after Harry turned over the sign that read 'OPEN', and after Louis turned off all of the lamps to convert the bright, cheerful shop into a dull, lifeless one. Harry slouched forward a bit, staggering, strands of hair rested on his cheek. The poor boy had a pale face, watery eyes, and was fumbling around with the hem of his shirt as he walked. He nearly ran straight into a pole, but, fortunately, Louis yanked his wrist so that he safely avoided it. 

" _Thaaaank_ you."

Louis constantly glanced over at Harry whilst walking; he looked so vulnerable, and it was almost upsetting. He repeatedly tripped over his feet, and his posture was noticeably worse than yesterday. It hadn't even crossed Louis's mind how peculiar it was to bring home a drunk person you'd known for less than twenty-four hours. Not like he would've cared, though. 

They finally approached his apartment building about five minutes later, finally escaping the cold winter breeze, (and the frozen feeling of the railing on their hands), and entering the slightly warmer atmosphere of his living room. Louis had forgotten how untidy it was, but never mind that. Harry was too intoxicated to have cared, anyway. They both sat on the leather couch, and Harry leaned backwards, groaning loudly to break the intimidating silence that surrounded the two. "Fucking ridiculous." he whined, shifting restlessly about as Louis watched the crinkles form and break repeatedly on the sofa. 

He didn't interrogate Harry on his countless comments. He just listened.

But, after about an hour of mindless rambling and twitching around, Harry gradually began to fall asleep in the otherwise silent room, and Louis watched with compassionate eyes before he did, too.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiiii. this was very short, i know. i feel like this was just a very brief introduction..? (second introduction..?) i'm trying to move the storyline along kinda quickly, i don't plan for this to be a very long story. :D
> 
> please leave comments/kudos on this if you read, (only if you want to, though), because it makes me smile.
> 
> hope you like what you see.


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